


Make It So

by SatiricalDraperies



Series: Empire of the Blue Lotus [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banned Together Bingo 2020, Dark Padmé Amidala, Dubious Morality, Empress Padmé Amidala, F/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24872311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatiricalDraperies/pseuds/SatiricalDraperies
Summary: She is striking. Even more so, when she applies her makeup in broad strokes of blood red over her eyes and lips. She is not wearing the caked-on white paint of Naboo’s Queen, nor the soft blush she favored as Senator. This is a completely different Padmé that the Galaxy will see today.Good.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Darth Maul
Series: Empire of the Blue Lotus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799698
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	Make It So

As Queen, all of Padmé’s outfits had to be specially designed for each occasion. She was the physical representation of Naboo and her clothing had to reflect that. 

As Senator, she had slightly more freedom but she took just as much care. Walking the thin line between practicality and fashion, she had to give off the right impression to draw attention to herself and to her politics.

As Empress, she still looks to send messages through her appearance. Not everyone can see her in person and hear her speech directly but that doesn’t mean that they can’t receive her word. 

This is her first public appearance being broadcasted across the Galaxy as Empress. She takes care to match her flag, presenting one united image for the Galaxy to latch on to. Where the flag features a black lotus on a blue background, she wears black silk with blue detailing. The sky blue embroidery traces curves down her skirt and strong angles over her shoulders. A mirror image of the lotus spreads across her chest.

She is striking. Even more so, when she applies her makeup in broad strokes of blood red over her eyes and lips. She is not wearing the caked-on white paint of Naboo’s Queen, nor the soft blush she favored as Senator. This is a completely different Padmé that the Galaxy will see today.

Good.

“My lady?” a handmaiden asks. It isn’t one of _her_ handmaidens, but the girl has served Padmé well. “They are ready for you.”

Good.

Padmé runs a hand over her hair one last time. For once it isn’t done up in twisting braids or wrapped around an ornate headpiece. Her head feels almost _naked_ without anything, like she’s lost a piece of armor and is now exposed and vulnerable.

_Good._

She is ready for this crown. She _needs_ this crown.

* * *

The ceremony is not long. Padmé believes in the strength of simplicity. 

She emerges from behind a curtain to stand on a balcony overlooking the main square of Theed. The crowd’s applause is genuine; they know how she has served them over the years. Padmé may have her enemies but they are not here on Naboo.

Today she is surrounded by friends, or allies, at the very least. Mace Windu and Obi-Wan Kenobi stand to her right as representatives of the Jedi Order, Commander Cody standing with them in the place of the clones. On her left, Bail Organa represents the Senate and Duchess Satine Kryze the independent systems. They all have reason to hate her (and she would not blame them for it) but she has brought peace, as promised, and until that peace is broken they have no reason to act on any hidden hatred that they may hold on to.

“This empire has grown from war,” she says, her voice amplified and projected to the furthest reaches of the Galaxy. “But just as fire is necessary for the forest to regrow, so is pain necessary to bring peace. We must never take this peace for granted. There is strength in unity. Today, we are united. Today, we are strong. But who knows what tomorrow may bring? Nothing is certain unless we make it so.”

There was some debate over who should crown her, each faction claiming that her victory would not be possible without their aid, that they were the most instrumental in securing her position, that they should have the honor of placing the sculpted bronze lotus crown on her head.

Padmé crowns herself.

“I make it so.”

* * *

There is a party after the coronation. Of _course_ there is a party after the coronation. 

Padmé sits on a temporary throne placed at the end of the ballroom. Here she holds court, holding hands and offering smiles to flatterers. It is mindless work. There are _so_ many flatterers and at least half as many suitors.

Do they really think she needs an Emperor?

Strength through unity. It is the guiding principle behind her entire empire. On a larger scale, she uses it to bind the many worlds of this Galaxy together, but on the personal level, she uses it to mean a different kind of unity. Only on her own can she maintain this level of power. Sure, she has advisors and public servants doing her work where her hands cannot reach, but they are not the same as an Emperor. An Emperor would want power of his own, power that Padmé cannot give.

“My lady.”

Padmé offers her hand for him to take without even looking. She knows that voice.

“I suppose I have you to thank for all of this,” she says.

“No, my lady,” Anakin Skywalker replies. “If I had not killed the Chancellor, another would have. It’s Master Windu you should be thanking. He discovered the Chancellor’s plot. He deserves all of the credit.”

“Well then, I shall have to let him know I am grateful.” 

_He has grown so much from the young boy on Tatooine,_ she thinks. 

“And what of you?” she asks. “Obi-Wan told me you left the order.”

“I did. I do not regret my time with the Jedi or the actions that led me to leave them. My fate lies upon a different path, I think.”

Padmé smiles. “I wish you all the luck along this new path.”

“Don’t you know?” Anakin says. “We make our own luck.”

* * *

Hours later, she is alone in her chambers. Her crown is placed in a warded alcove across the room from her bed and her hair hangs down over her shoulders as she brushes it out.

“I like the red,” Maul says, stepping out of the shadows and appraising her choice of makeup. “It suits you.”

“How long have you been waiting here for me?” 

“It wasn’t too long,” he shrugs.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t be there today.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“No,” Padmé says. “You should have been there by my side. Obi-Wan will have to learn to accept you eventually.”

“It’s not just Obi-Wan,” Maul says. “Today was your day. Today, your Galaxy needed to see their Empress. You did not need accessories besides that crown.”

“You are _not_ an accessory, Maul. Maybe the Galaxy didn’t need to see you, but I would have liked it.”

He smiles, but there’s some pity in it. “You are the Empress now, Padmé. Remember that.”

“How can I forget?” she asks.

“Strength through unity,” he says. “Only you were not alone on that balcony.”

“Strength through unity,” she counters. “Unity of different peoples.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Sometimes Padmé forgets that he can sense her intentions through the Force. No, she doesn’t believe that. The sooner the Galaxy can forget its old loyalties, the sooner they will be truly united under her rule. There can be no war between the self and the other if the self is all-encompassing. 

But there are still treaties that are yet to be signed and legislation that is yet to be enacted. She _is_ grateful to her allies. She _did_ want them to be present for her coronation. Still, Maul is right. He usually is. Padmé envisions a universe in which individuals really can make a difference. There, she wouldn’t need a physical show of support from the various factions. There, she could stand on her own and it would be enough. She has yet to figure out exactly where Maul fits into these plans, but for now, at least, it is enough to know that he fits in somewhere.

“Not entirely,” she agrees. “But we have to start somewhere.”

“I suppose. We have to start with—” his eyes flash yellow. “ _Kenobi._ ”

“Kenobi?” Padmé asks, confused, before she hears the knock at the door.

By the time she pulls the door open, Maul has disappeared back into the night.

* * *

Obi-Wan didn’t want much. Jedi never do.

Padmé can’t relate. Even now that she has accomplished the impossible, she still _wants_ so much. Today was a good start but it is just the beginning. The universe has so much to offer and Padmé wants it all. 

She sees herself among the stars, traveling to each and every world, meeting all of the Galaxy’s people. All of _her_ people. The universe is hers for the taking if she only reaches out for it. 

“I make it so,” she says into the night. No one hears her but they don’t need to. This moment is Padmé’s and Padmé’s alone, her personal declaration of a future in which nothing is known and everything is certain. 

“ _I_ make it so.”


End file.
